


The right man at the wrong time

by CallMeV



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Agent AU, Alternate Universe - Army, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Enemies to Friends, Louis is haunted by his past, Marksman, Marksman Louis, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sniper Louis, Soldiers, Troubled Louis, Zayn is the badguy I guess, maybe to lovers, ups
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29245116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeV/pseuds/CallMeV
Summary: Agent Louis Tomlinson once has been the best marksman in the whole Special Forces,hitting any target no matter how far away or how fast it moved.The emphasis is on "has been".A few years ago, his life has been turned upside down in a terrible way, changing everything.What happens when the Special Forces suddenly need the best marksman available, Harry and Liam are supposed to work with him and Louis is still only trying to survive somehow?
Kudos: 2





	1. Are you sure he is the right one?

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have originally written this one for a different fandom, but decided it for 1D as well.  
> I hope you enjoy. Reviews are very welcomed xx

"Are you sure we are at the right place?" Liam frowned as he looked at the old, brown houses, where plaster crumbled from the walls and each entrance smelled like a weird mix of urine and smoke.

Liam knew this kind of places well, having grown up in a similar area like this. But now being port of the Special Forces after a successful career in the army he could not believe that a former comrade would be found in such a place.  
Harry, who had grown up quiet differently to Liam, shrugged and looked again on to the note in his hands as if he could have misread it.

"Our contact has been quiet clear about this."

"Then, let's find out."

  
The main door to the house stood slightly open, the residents possibly did not fear burglaries as there was not much to get in their flats.  
The bitter smell that had already greeted them in the entrance got worse the more stairs they climbed. Graffiti was sprayed on the walls and both Agents made sure to not touch the banister.

After climbing three staircases they reached the apartment with the number 7 clinging to its door.  
Harry knocked and they both waited patiently for a few moments.  
As now answer or footsteps came, he knocked again, this time more forcefully.

"Mister Tomlinson? Are you home?" Liam asked at the same moment to show this guy that they were insistent on a talk.

As an answer they heard some rustling, something clattering to the floor, heavy footsteps and then with a quiet click, the door was opened just enough for Mister Tomlinson to peak through the slot.  
His eyes were drawn together in anger or annoyance, Liam could not quiet tell. However he tried to stay as friendly and polite as possible. After all, this man once had been one of them.

"Mister Tomlinson, we're Agents Styles and Payne from the Special Forces. We're here because Captain Cowell and our team need your assistance. We were told-"

"No." Tomlinson hissed and almost shut the door in their faces, hadn't it been for the for thinking Harry, who had placed his foot in between. Tomlinson looked down at the foot that stopped him from being alone again, annoyed.  
But he didn't try to close the door any longer, even though he didn't open it anymore either. They were still left to communicate only with his eyes and dishevelled brown hair.

"We would be very glad if you would at least let us explain."

Harry offered, not pressing the man to do anything but listen.  
Tomlinson seemed reluctant but they had been warned that it would not going to be easy to get him to cooperate.

As the door on the other side of the hall was opened and a woman with three children went through it, Liam turned around for a second before taking in Tomlinson again.

"Maybe we should speak about this inside. This is no talk for everyone to hear."

Tomlinson sighed, but he knew that two UKSF Agents would not leave before they got what they wanted.  
So he took a step back from the door and walked towards the small kitchen table. He did not invite the men in, but he hadn't closed the door either, so both Agents took that as a sign to come in.

While Harry’s eyes were roaming over the sparse furniture and empty walls, the dirt on the few shelves and the untidiness in the room, (because that was what this flat was, a single room with one closed door that had to lead toward the bathroom), Liam was focused on Tomlinson, who he now saw for the first time in complete.  
The rest of his body fitted to the dishevelled hair and tired eyes, which they have seen earlier. He was dressed in a wornout sweatshirt, that was at least one size too big for him, and sweatpants that hang loosely on his thing legs. The few places where skin could be seen it was pale and thin, blue veins visible underneath it.  
Liam didn't miss the slight shake in Tomlinson’s hands neither, as the man leaned against the kitchen table as casual as possible.

Liam and Harry stayed in the middle of the room - the apartment - hands resting in their pockets as they both turned their full focus on Tomlinson as he began to speak.

"What do two shiny-new UKSF Agents want from a simple man like me?"  
Sarcasm and annoyance laced his voice as he looked at them with raised brows.

Of course it was Harry who answered, Harry who ignored the faint insult or the anger glistening in Tomlinson’s eyes.

"We're working on a case. A quiet old one actually. And Cowell send us to you, not only to get information, because apparently you've worked on this case before us, but also to execute the plan."

Both Harry and Athos were still sceptical of this. The one thing was to get some information out of a former Agent, but it was a totally different thing to ask him to work for them as a sniper and completely rely on his skills. As bad as his hands shook, Liam doubted this man could even load a rifle. But Cowell had ordered them to get him and so they would do. It wasn't often that they questioned the Captains orders, but this one felt quite insane. The UKSF was one of the best units in whole France and they had exceptional snipers.  
Harry and Liam knew that their plan was their only chance to get the criminals, and that it was quite risky as the sniper would have only one opportunity and his shot would have to count for 100% - but was it really better to rely on some resigned Agent, who obviously had his best years behind him, than to trust the men they knew and worked with every day?

"No." Tomlinson shook his head, hands gripping the table tightly. "No. I'm done. I've resigned and I thought I've made it clear to Cowell that I won't come back ever again."

"Listen," Liam started, "we don't know what happened between you and the Captain and we really don't want to know. But we want to get this Bastard Malik once and for all. And we need help to do this. Need it from a really, really good sniper."

Again, Tomlinson shook his head.

"I would rather be the next target on Malik’s list than to work for the UKSF ever again. I'm done. I've seen enough death and took enough lifes for the lifetimes of three Agents. I'm done."

Liam sighed, eyes drifting over the dirty dishes by the sink, the ash beside the pack of cigarettes by the stained window, the empty boxes of pills inside the trash can... He would have loved to just leave Tomlinson alone, get this job done without him and forget all of this… He really did not want this man, with some obvious problems going on, to be part of their plan... But Cowell wanted. And Cowell would get what he wanted. And if everything went wrong and all the work was for nothing – well, it would at least be Cowell’s fault and not theirs.

"Listen, we know the job's not easy - we've seen our fair share of shit too - but you know about Malik, right?"

Tomlinson crossed his arms in front of his chest and nodded grimly.

"I do."

"Then you also know that he has to be dealt with. Don't you?"

Liam noticed the obvious struggle in Tomlinson’s eyes, his fingertips digging into his arms as he desperately avoided their gazes.

As Tomlinson nodded in agreement, Liam could not help but send a hopeful glance towards Harry. They had him dangling from their hook, they only had to get him onto their boat now.

"You said Cowell had sent you?"  
They nodded simultaneously.

"Then please deliver him a message from me. Say him, he can go and fuck himself. And now, leave." Tomlinson pushed himself off the table and walked over to the entrance and ripped the door open.

"I am sure you will find another henchman to do your dirty work."

Harry and Liam shared a short questioning look. They could not leave without Tomlinson, Cowell would not be happy. He had been quite insistent with his orders.  
'There's no one else who could do this job. Get him into the base. I don't care how, but don’t come back without Tomlinson.'

Instead of walking towards the door, which Tomlinson still held open, Liam wandered over to the full trash can, inspecting the boxes in it.

"Oh look, Harry. I bet he doesn't have a prescription for any of these pills." Liam grinned as he fished out an empty box of Pregabalin.

"Oh I don't think so either, Liam."

Harry added helpfully only to earn a hateful look from Tomlinson as he understood what they were doing.

"You can't arrest me for an empty box of pills."

"Oh no, we can't." Liam agreed as he digged deeper in the trash for something else.

"But we can for this." Harry’s lips twitched up slightly to a triumphant grin. A small plastic bag with three white pills in it was dangling from his fingertips. Tomlinson paled visible as he had been so concentrated on Liam that he hadn't noticed Harry vanishing into the bathroom.  
His eyes switched towards the door, but Liam was faster and had already his gun levelled on him.

"Mister Tomlinson you're under arrest for owning illegal substances."

Tomlinson’s jaw tensed in anger as Harry stepped closer and grabbed his arm tightly.

"Come now."

Liam and Harry watched from behind the one-way mirror that separated the room which was usually used for interrogations and their small chamber. They'd put some water and a sandwich onto the table as they did not want treat Tomlinson too roughly. After all he was no real criminal and supposed to help them.

Unfortunately, Cowell had still been in a meeting and not knowing what else to do with the uncooperating man, they decided that the interrogation room was the safest place to keep him.

At first, Tomlinson had been stubborn and had stared straight through the mirror, knowing very well that they were behind it. But after some time, which had to be about an hour, he seemed to get stressed. His hands shook even worse than in his apartment and he started to fiddle with the glass in front of him. The more time passed the more restless he became, biting his lips in a nervous tick.

"'I thought snipers were supposed to be calm." Liam muttered. He still did not know how this man was supposed to help them.

"Not when on withdrawal." Harry explained and Liam made an "ah" sound, as if he should have come up with this thought as well.

However, they both fell silent as the door to Tomlinson’s room was finally opened and Cowell stepped in. The Captain shortly glanced to the one-way mirror before he sat on the opposite of the table, his back towards his agents.

"Louis, I'm glad you came." Cowell started, his voice calm and soothing. A tone the agents weren't used to hear from their Captain. They mostly knew him yelling, hissing or worse: silently staring.

"Hadn't a choice, did I?" Tomlinson muttered as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking straight at the mirror in a way that made Liam and Harry believe that he knew exactly where they stood.

"I guess not. And I apologize for the rather... rude treatment. But this is an urgent mission. There will only be a short time slot in which we think Malik will be in the country. We want-"

"You've said it. You want it. Not I. I don't care about this mission; I don't care about the UKSF and most certainly I don't care about this asshole Malik!" Louis spit, anger flashing across his bony face.

Cowell sighed and then leant forward.

"I know you owe us nothing. Rather it's the other way around. But please, son, think about it. We think Malik had planned another attack on a soldiering group. We have to stop him this time, once and for all. We have to get him before history repeats."

Cowell had whispered the last sentence, but not quite enough that his agents could not hear it. At this, Louis looked at him shortly and they thought to see something like understanding in his dull eyes. It than quickly changed to barely contained pain as Tomlinson shook his head frantically, his head falling to his chest in exhaustion as he closed his eyes tightly.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Because we need you, son. And because I care about you."

Harry and Liam could not see the sad eyes of Cowell nor how his fingers moved slightly under the suppressed urge to reach out to the marksman.

Louis let out a shuddering breath which wrecked his thin shoulders.

"Even if - and I am not saying I'm doing this - but even if I would want to help you - I can't. I could not take the shot." Louis confessed, his eyes falling on his shaking fingers, which he dug deeply into the skin of his arms to contain the shaking. "It's been a lifetime ago since I've held a riffle."

"We still got a couple of months. You can train and get healthy. Nothings impossible. I know you can do this, Louis."

For a few long seconds the room was in silence. Louis stared at one of the grey walls deep in thought while Cowell sat in his chair, waiting patiently.

Harry and Liam were watching with dreadful anticipation. They still did not know if they wanted Tomlinson to help or not.

So, they did not smile like Cowell as the marksman nodded slightly.

"I will try it. One last time. IF-" Louis focused on Treville with a stern look. "If you promise to leave me the fuck alone after this. For ever."

Cowell sighed but nodded. It would not be easy but if this was what Louis truly wanted, then he would comply.

"You can have a room here in the Base. I will brief you tomorrow at 7 am. Until then, rest son."

“He’s late.” Liam commented, obviously annoyed at their new member. He and Harry were almost through with the cup of coffee they had actually bought for the meeting and not for the waiting for it to begin. Cowell was there as well, starring out of the window of the conference room and onto the parking lot, observing the coming and going of Agents.

It was almost eight and their mood on it’s lowest point, as the door finally opened.


	2. His element

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis has to proof his worth.

Harry almost rolled his eyes as he saw Louis finally enter the conference room. The former Agent had dark bags beneath his eyes, just like he had partied the whole night. He wore a simple washed-out hoodie, nothing really appropriate for an Agent of the UKSF, and walked into the room without any pencils or papers to take notes. Instead he’d stuffed his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. Harry huffed in annoyance as the man plumbed down in a seat at the end of the table, facing the team and the door he had just came through.

“Oh look, who has decided to finally join us.” Liam muttered, speaking out loud Harry’s thoughts before he started the presentation without exchanging any more words with the marksman.

Harry listened carefully as Liam and Cowell explained their case again, listening to the new hints and going deeper into the organization of the final act. But, even though he really tried to keep his eyes on his notes and the whiteboard, he couldn’t help but to glance back towards Tomlinson once in a while. The marksman never changed his posture, only sat there with the hood covering half of his face, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the opposite wall. Harry could not quite tell if the man was listening very carefully or dreaming in another dimension. And he really wished he would not have to care. But he had to.

The whole succeed of this mission laid in the shaking hands of a former marksman and it WAS important if he listened to their plan or not. Because, if he missed or shot too late… Harry sighed, returning his attention back to the presentation. He should not dwell on thoughts like this and trust Cowell that he had made the right decision. Their Captain rarely made the wrong choices and Harry prayed that this was another one of his insane but great plans.

After they all were up to date, Cowell insisted that the three of them went to the training area, to “operate as a team”, he’d said. Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to not let a comment slip about how the three of them would not never be a real team. Tomlinson was just their means for the purpose and would never be part of the tight bond the other two Agents shared. He hadn’t been on the missions they’d been, hadn’t seen what they’d seen.

And, he would be gone in a few months anyway. So why form a bond with a junkie?

\-----  
  


Arriving at the training area, Liam and Harry directly stirred towards the shooting range. After all this praise of Tomlinson’s skills, they were curious if he really was THAT great. They walked in front of him, not noticing how the former marksman seemed to get more hesitant the closer they came to the range. Inside the pocket of his hoodie, his fingers fiddled with one another, squeezing and shaking as the weight on his chest grew heavier with each step. The sounds of gunshots grew louder and louder, each ‘pang’ radiating through him in a wave of pain and fear. The necks on the back of his neck tingled and he turned around several times, the feeling of being followed, observed, not lessening a bit.

But Louis was determined to not let the Agents in front of him notice. He’d seen the despise on their faces as they were in his apartment, the annoyance this morning. He knew they didn’t want him there, didn’t think so highly of him as the Captain did. And Louis couldn’t be angry at them for this. He understood. Afterall he didn’t see himself in a better light than they did. He knew what a pathetic person he’d become, but he didn’t know how to change it. He despised himself and couldn’t stand to look into the mirror in the morning.

Once Agent Payne opened the familiar door to the shooting range and the sound grew louder immediately, Louis took a steadying breath before following the Agents inside.

Neither Payne nor Styles bothered to exchange more words than necessary with the sniper. Instead they just leaned against a wall to the side of the shooting range on the far left and nodded towards the riffle that laid on top of a desk.

Louis nodded, gulping down the bile in his throat and grabbed the weapon. He noticed his shaking fingers but forced himself to ignore it, even though he saw how Agent Styles’ eyebrows raised in anticipation as Louis needed longer than necessary to load the riffle.

It felt like a lifetime ago that he’d had a weapon in his hands, like a different life that he truly enjoyed the feeling of it. Feeling the four eyes bore into him, he raised the riffle, placed the end against his shoulder and took a deep breath. His heart raced, ready to just jump out of his chest but he managed to keep his hands from shaking. His finger hovered over the trigger for several moments as Louis tried to get used to the familiar feeling again.

Once he’d managed to push the fear and memories aside and focused his eyes onto the target, he forget everything else around him. He was back in his element. His body seemed to remember the years of practice easily, as well as the calamity he’d always felt when he stood behind a weapon. Just he, the gun and the target. This was easy.

He pulled the trigger, tensed his shoulder, felt the recoil rock his body and didn’t need to look at the target to know that he hit dead center. Instead, he lowered the riffle and turned to the two Agents watching him. A smug grin formed on his lips as he noticed the amazed impression on the man’s faces.

“Not bad.” Styles managed to grit out. “But the target is only half way. Let’s make this a little bit harder.”

With that he pushed a button and the target was pulled to the other end of the range.

Louis just shrugged, bathing in the old new confidence he felt when he was in his element.

He reloaded, barely aimed and shot, hitting the red circle in the middle again. And again, and again.

“Impressive.” Payne muttered after more shots hit the same spot every time and Louis smiled as he put the riffle away.

“Why did you leave the Unit?” Styles then suddenly asked, obviously baffled by the sniper’s accuracy.

Louis stopped in his tracks of dissembling the riffle for a moment, before he kept going and shrugged his shoulders.

“It was a mutual agreement between the Captain and me.”

“Why?” Styles frowned and Louis really could have punched the man for his stubbornness. On the other hand, he understood. This mission was important and it’s success was up to him. Of course the leading Agents wanted to know with what and whom they were dealing. And there had been a time in which Louis had just been the same. He’d known every fact about the men he’d worked with, knew their fears and triggers, knew their motivations and their background. He knew each scar and talent. After all, their life’s laid in each others hands and first they had to trust one another before working together as a team. But all of this was so long ago. None of his brothers in arms were still there. All gone, because he’d failed them and he’d promised himself years ago to never form such a tight bond again. He could not loose another brother, could not be hurt like this again.

Still… he was here now and he’d promised Cowell to full fill this mission. And to do so his comrades had to trust him.

“A mission went wrong.” Louis answered. Hoping, praying, that this would be enough of an answer. After putting the riffle away, he walked out of the range, not bothering to look if the Agents followed him, because he just knew they did.

  
“Tomlinson” Agent Styles made a few hurried steps to catch up with the Sniper and grabbed his arm from behind to stop him from practically running away from them.

Not having anticipated this move it send Louis’ into defence mode. Without even thinking about what he was doing, he was grabbing Styles’ wrist, twisted his arm and pushed him against the next wall. His own arm pushing against his attackers throat.

“HEY! Stop it, Tomlinson!” Payne shouted, running towards the struggling pair. Only as Liam wrapped his arms around Louis’ chest and pulled him away from Harry, the Sniper woke up from whatever parallel universe he had been caught in. Watching how Harry rubbed his reddened throat, Louis pulled his eyebrows together in guilt.

“Sorry. Don’t know what that was.” He muttered once Liam let go of him again.

Luckily, the two Agents decided to not question him further to the incident. For now.

They’d both seen their fare share of Agents and Soldiers returning from a mission and acting strange or aggressively, being lightly startled or caught in their own heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Feedbeck are very much appreciated!


End file.
